“Yeah?”
“Everything.” His heated gaze had me clamping my legs and mouth shut. I had to look away because if I wasn’t bleeding a river, I’d let him show me what thateverythingmeant.
“Your name is unique. Who named you?” I asked, changing the subject.
“My father. He said I was thetrucebetween him and God. Told me he had a personal beef with him for a long time until he met my moms and she became pregnant with me.”
“Why didn’t they stay together?”
“Moms was a hot girl back then. My pops was trying to settle her down, but she didn’t want that. Enter Dame’s pops… She was running drugs with him and disguised it aswork. My pops didn’t like it and told her to quit, but… she didn’t. Eventually, she ended up smashing the nigga, and here comes this big, bobble-head baby that I love dearly, and whose ass I’m going to beat as soon as I see him again.”
“Truce, please…” I begged.
“Nah, shorty. What you gotta know is that when I ask my people not to do shit, and they do it anyway, that puts me in a position to have to flex my muscle. I don’t like doing that shit because I love the fuck out of my family. But since he wants to follow in his father’s broken-ass footsteps, then I’m going to give him a reminder of who I am, and what I do to people who don’t listen.”
“I don’t like this…”
“I don’t either, but it is what it is. I bet he won’t put his hands on you again.”
Scottlyn began rubbing her eyes, signaling that she was ready for bed. I stood and reached for her as Truce planted a kiss on her cheek. “Looks like someone’s sleepy.”
“Goodnight, Chunks. I love you, mamas.” He handed her to me, and I took her to the bedroom while Truce cleaned up the food.
Thirty minutes later, she was out. Truce and I sat at the table near the balcony, playing cards while I continued to ask him questions that he answered with no problem. I found him to be intriguing—alpha, loving, caring, and very fucking sexy. It was the hair on his head and the patch on his chin for me. His facial expressions and demeanor added another level of attraction too. Damien was fine, but Truce’s looks were unique and intoxicating—just like his name and his part-Lebanese heritage.
Learning he had Lebanese running through his blood was shocking. I always thought the Lebanese culture didn’t date Black people. Truce explained that his father’s mother was Lebanese, and she’d run off with his grandfather. He told me he had a paternal aunt and two paternal uncles who lived in South Carolina, and he visited them once a year to ensure he got a dose of some of his Lebanese roots. While we continued to talk and enjoy the views of the city, I finally felt a sense of calmness and peace.
If only for the night.
“Fuck, baby! Yesss! Fuck me, Damien!”Britt yelled while I gave her back shots. King Von’s “Took Her to the O” blared through the speakers of her two-bedroom townhouse, which I purchased two weeks ago to keep her ass from doing what she promised.
Sweat poured down my forehead as I fucked her until she could barely talk. I had been fucking her for over thirty minutes now, since I was high off the X and Hennessy. Both of my phones had gone off multiple times, but I ignored them, trying to bust this nut on Britt’s tonsils. When I felt myself about to blow, I pulled out of her.
“Catch this shit,” I told her.
Without hesitation, she flipped over, opened her mouth, and I shot my load down her throat. I fell over on the bed, trying to catch my breath as she began kissing my chest and down my stomach. I grabbed my phones from the nightstand, seeing multiple missed calls from my best friend, Shooter, and my lieutenant, Rock. Off top, I knew it had to be an emergency.
“Stop!” I yelled, pushing Britt off me when she tried to suck my dick to get me back up.
She pushed me back. “You need to fucking chill. Stupid ass.”
“What the fuck you just say?”
She scooted from the bed and headed out to the room. “Fuck you.”
“Yeah, you say that shit on your way out the door because you know I would have busted you in your shit. You better be glad I don’t feel like beating ass today.”
I could hear the bathroom door slam as I hit Shooter’s number to hit him back. The phone only rang once before he picked up. “Nigga, where the fuck you at?”
“Around. What’s going on?”
“Mannn, them bitch-ass Renegades just ran up on Monty, beat his ass, and took his work. One of them niggas told him if we cross over into their territory again, they coming with the choppers. We need to handle them niggas like yesterday, fam.”
Anger seared through me as I picked up the bottle of Hennessy and guzzled some down. “Where y’all at?”
“At the main spot.”
“In a minute.” I hung up and began tossing on my clothes. Britt brought her fat booty ass back in the room, and I was tempted to let her finish what she started.
